


Taunts

by LuckyPanda13



Series: Measures in Control [2]
Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyPanda13/pseuds/LuckyPanda13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a challenge for Harry: survive a Blue Man Group concert without blowing anything up or melting anything. Harry really likes the promised reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taunts

I was used to getting grabbed off the street and shoved into the back of a car. It was a little sad how comfortable I had gotten with getting kidnapped. It had gotten to the point where I started grading and rating my captures against each other. John absolutely _hates_ it when I do that, so, obviously, I do it rather frequently. I was walking home, minding my own business, I swear, when a limo pulled up beside me and Hendricks got out.

“Again?” I sighed. “This is the third time this week!” As usual, Cujo said nothing, but opened the door to the limo. I debated walking away, which I did on occasion, just to make the kidnapping more exciting, but that usually upset John. And not in the good, fun, and highly arousing way either. So, I sucked it up and got inside the limo. Once the door shut behind me, I was dragged into a deep, uncompromising kiss. Now, I’d been molested as often as I’d been kidnapped, so my immediate reaction was to grab my lover and molest him right back. John chuckled against my lips before pulling back.

“You know, I’m going to end up with a _really_ odd Pavlovian response to getting kidnapped.” I sighed.

“As long as I’m the only one doing the kidnapping,” John shrugged, “Any sexual Pavlovian response would be welcome.”

“I don’t think Cujo would appreciate a backseat porno.” I grinned.

“I wouldn’t make him stay.” John sniffed, haughtily. “That would be rude and it’s not in his contract.” Hendricks, as usual, said nothing and started driving.

“So, where are you taking me tonight?” I asked.

“We’re going to a concert.” John said, finally settling back in his seat. I blinked at him.

“You mean and orchestra concert, right?” I asked slowly. “With violins and cellos and trumpets and such?”

“First of all, if there were trumpets, it would be a symphony orchestra, since wind instruments would be involved, and it’s only an orchestra if there are only string instruments. Well, for the most part. Secondly, no, it’s a rock concert.” John said, as if taking me, a wizard who tended to blow up any electronic device if I so much as looked at it funny, to a rock concert with _a lot of electronic devices_ all running at once was the most normal and expected thing he could be doing.

“John,” I said slowly so he could understand, “I thought you were aware of this, considering how many phones, computers, and cars of yours I’ve broken, but technology hates me.”

“Yes, I am aware of that, Harry.” John replied, calmly. I waited for him to explain himself, but he just looked out the window like he already explained everything. Bastard.

“John, why are you taking me to a rock concert when I’m probably going to blow the equipment up?” I finally asked.

“I’m taking you to see Blue Man Group, Harry. It’s an experience everyone should appreciate, including wizards who tend to blow technology up.” John gave me a quick kiss. “Have more faith in yourself. I’m sure you can go the whole concert without blowing anything up, or even melting anything.”

The words that came out of his mouth sounded like encouragement, but I knew John. His money green eyes told me the silent promise of all things pleasurable should I manage to not blow anything up. Or melt anything. The damnable man just promised me sex as long as I behaved for an entire rock concert. How the fuck was I supposed to behave when I knew John was horny?!

I hated that man.

“Did you at least seat us as far from the equipment as possible, so I have a chance?” I asked, preparing to shield my power as much as I could.

“Of course.” John narrowed his eyes at me. “And no cheating, Harry.”

“John!” I wasn’t whining, no matter what John said. “You have to at least make this feasible for me!”

“You have more than enough control to keep yourself in check for a concert without cheating.” John said smoothly. Hendricks snorted from the front of the limo, but I ignored him. What Cujo didn’t know about my self-control, particularly where John was concerned, was hilarious. John knew more about my self-control than anyone alive. Well, maybe my godmother, but she had never done what John had. John had tormented me sexually for nearly four months, testing my restraint and self-discipline with all the gleeful integrity of a small child at Christmas. Never mind that I loved the torture he inflicted on me as much as he did.

Man, I had some weird Stockholm Syndrome shit going on.

* * *

 

“You did very well, Harry.” John said as we walked back to the limo. “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m not going back to my apartment tonight, am I?” I was grinning like a fool. I had just gone to a rock concert, genuinely enjoyed myself because Blue Man Group was hilarious and amazing, and _hadn’t_ blown anything up _or_ melted anything. I had also survived my asshole of a lover who not only made me participate without actually participating himself, but he also basically molested me during the whole damn thing.

“Well, you can go wherever you’d like.” John said with a small shrug, opening the door to the limo for us. “I am going back to my mansion tonight.” Instantly, my brain went to the place was trying to make it go, specifically to the abundance of sex I had enjoyed all over his mansion. Literally. It was so unfair how he was conditioning me to expect sex from getting kidnapped by him and going to his mansion. Damn that man. I settled back in my seat, silently giving John my decision. His smile made it _totally_ worth it.

If I maybe, perhaps decided to kiss said smile, it was in _no way_ designed to garner anything sexual from the man, I swear. If John grabbed my ass while I was tasting his smile, then my groaned reaction of rocking my hips against his thigh was _totally_ justified. So, I started off with a chaste kiss and ended up straddling my lover, making out heavily in the back of a limo.

Which was when Hendricks slammed on the brakes.

“Sorry, boss.” Hendricks called, rolling down the divide just a crack as we went sprawling all over the floor. We somehow managed _not_ to kill each other, but John’s hands were still glued to my form. He kissed me again, like he hadn’t just been thrown from his seat. “You should wait to finish what you’ve started.” Hendricks advised. “He’s starting to short out the engine.”

“Yes, of course.” John didn’t even _sound_ like he had been making out. The way his erection dug into my hip proved it was all bravado, but I wanted to make that man lose his damnable control. “Thank you, Mr. Hendricks.” John helped me back into a seat and sat across from me, keeping as much distance between us as possible. The way his eyes lingered on the bare skin of my stomach just before I tugged my shirt down made me want to get right back on top of him.

“Behave, Harry.” He murmured, voice a little rough. But not nearly rough enough. I crossed my arms, petulantly, throwing up a wall of contrary in order to plan how to make the man lose control.

“I didn’t start it.” I muttered. John gave me a look that said I was being immature. I got that look a lot. “I _didn’t_!”

“Behave.” I looked out the window, still pouting, but felt John’s burning gaze on me the whole time. Smiling to myself, I stretched as far as I could in the limo, lifting my t-shirt up again. John’s eyes snapped to the sliver of skin and I almost laughed.

“Behave, John.” I taunted. John’s dark gaze told me that I was _so_ going to get it when we got back to the mansion. For some reason, I blame Stockholm Syndrome, I was aroused, rather than afraid by the silent promise. The rest of the ride was me deliberately teasing John with flashes of skin and sideways looks while licking my lips. By the time we got back to the mansion, I could tell that John was undeniably and achingly hard. Awesome.

“You’re in trouble, _cucciolo_.” John growled at me when we got out of the limo. Out of vindictive amusement, I groped his ass when he turned to shut the door to the limo. I shit you not, I have never gotten through the mansion as fast as I did at that moment. The pet name had come up at some point in the third month and I was still getting used to it. John refused to tell me what it meant, which led to an extremely humiliating conversation with Bob, who _also_ wouldn’t tell me what it meant. John only used the name when he was so horny that it hurt. So, it was always a good way to determine how effective my seduction was.

“Awesome.” I breathed as he shoved me against his bedroom door, kissing me desperately. I had been waiting for this since he had kidnapped me. I needed the crime lord and I needed him _now_. I tugged at his clothes while he pulled at mine, inefficiently trying to undress each other. John chuckled at our terrible attempts to remove clothing and I saw a flash of a knife. “I like this shirt!” John kissed me, silencing my complaints, and cut my clothes off. Four months of having my clothes get continually destroyed by our lust had gotten John to buy me a duplicate wardrobe in his mansion. No kidding. It didn’t matter what of mine he cut off me, he had a copy of it. Well, except my duster, but his knife couldn’t cut that off me.

So, I found myself quickly undressed with my back on the absurdly comfortable bed that John had with the mob boss sucking down my erection like a starving man. My hands were pinned to the bed by his, preventing me from doing _anything_ but take his blow job passively. Every time we had sex, regardless of how aroused we were, it always felt like John was worshipping my body. He had bottomed to me every single time, but it still felt like he adored everything about my body. It was a little weird to take in, especially since I had known for so long that I wasn’t particularly _that_ good looking, but John ignored all of my protests.

“John!” I gasped for air, begging him to stop the wonderful torture he wreaked on my erection. The man quirked one eyebrow up, smirking at me.

“Yes, Harry?” Oh, fuck that man and his goddamn self-control. Four months and I had _yet_ to make him lose his damn polite reserve.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Okay, so I was curious. Sue me.

Luckily, my lover wasn’t dumb enough to ask me if I was sure. He leaned forward and kissed me deeply, making the sudden nerves die in the wake of my want. Damn, John’s a good kisser. It wasn’t long before there was a condom around his erection and he had lube out and a finger in my ass. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it didn’t _hurt_. He watched me avidly, not really stretching me, but more exploring what I liked and what I didn’t. And then he touched something and my heart stopped as I bucked off the bed.

“Fuck!”

“No, Harry. That’s your prostate.”

Fuck that man and his goddamn self-control _twice_.

“Thanks for introducing us.” I replied, trying to breathe. John chuckled and a second finger joined the first, stretching uncomfortably again until he hit my prostate _again_. I was becoming very aware of why John liked being on bottom as much as on top.

“Look at you, _cucciolo_.” John chuckled darkly. I hated that chuckle. And I loved it.

“Can’t.” I managed to get out as he rubbed across that damn spot again. He chuckled again. That chuckle always promised awesome things.

“You’re already begging for more and you’ve only got two fingers in.” John teased. Fuck that man and his goddamn self-control _thrice_. If he didn’t do _something_ , I was going to do it myself. I told my lover as much. “Now, _cucciolo_ , I’m trying to be gentle, to make sure your first time is pleasurable.”

“Already is.” I kissed him so hard that I may have accidentally split his lip. “Now, fuck me.” The blood did _something_ to John, because one moment he was teasing me with his fingers and my prostate and the next he was obediently pressing into me, his erection uncomfortably large and filling. The craziest thing, though, was that I actually _liked_ the stretch and burn. And then he hit my prostate again. Okay, so the biggest difference between fingers and cock, aside from size, is the sensation on the prostate. Fingers can hit the spot, but they can miss just as easily. Cock, specifically John’s, didn’t miss. Ever. There was a near constant pressure on my prostate, making me impatient and hyper and horny beyond words.

“Fuck, _cucciolo_.” John groaned into my neck, trying not to move in his attempt to let me adjust to his size.

“John.” I breathed in the masculine musk of my lover and got even more aroused, if it was even possible. “ _More_.” I bit down on his neck, relishing in the dark growl it elicited. John took my words to heart and started thrusting into me. The pleasure was constant and nearly painful at the same time. I couldn’t get a full breath of air and I just _wanted_. I wanted John. I wanted that man to lose his control and go wild. I wanted everything from him.

I didn’t last long.

Neither did John, to be fair.

It was all kind of a blur. I was clutching to my lover, begging obnoxiously, and he was shoving himself into me harder and harder and then I was swept into the glorious bliss of orgasm with John on my heels. I flopped back onto the bed, content with _not_ moving ever again. John pulled out of me and disappeared, making me grumble obscene complaints until he returned with a washcloth and, oh yeah, I came all over myself, didn’t I? Once we were both clean, John persuaded me under the blankets and my ass ached as I cuddled up to him. As much as John teased me about being a cuddler, he was infinitely worse. The man was a cuddle monster. I shit you not.

“So beautiful.” John murmured, pressing a kiss into my hair.

“Shuddup.” I grumbled, sleepily.

“What did you think of bottoming?” John asked. I muttered something incoherent and he laughed. “Guess you liked it then.” I gave him a dark look, swearing that if he didn’t shut up and go to sleep I was going to do something stupid and drastic. He held his hands up in surrender and shut up. His warm fingers trailed along my spine while his other hand scratched at my scalp, turning me into a puddle. It was his favorite thing about me, I think.

“Fuck!” I bolted upright, regretting the action immediately when my ass ached again.

“I sent Ms. Gard to feed Mouse and Mister while we were at the show. They’ll be fine until morning.” John yawned. Immediately, I felt foolish for panicking. The first time I had spent the night unexpectedly, I made John drive me back to my apartment to take care of my pets. Where the man promptly jumped me again and then he stayed the night at my place. Since then, he had gotten very good at ensuring that _someone_ fed my pets.

“Oh.” I settled back on the bed. “You need to stop kidnapping me, or I’m going expect this from all my kidnappers.”

“You better not get kidnapped by anyone else but me.” John growled.

“Hazard of the job.” I shrugged.

“If you get kidnapped by someone else and you react like _that_ , I’m going to be very put out with you.” John nuzzled into my hair.

“Would it get me in trouble?” I grinned.

“Yes, _cucciolo_ , it would get you in trouble.”

“Awesome.”


End file.
